


Right Place, Right Time

by tiggeryumyum



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, a bit - Freeform, homosexuality as a theme, like iwaizumi is actually struggling with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 02:11:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiggeryumyum/pseuds/tiggeryumyum
Summary: Iwaizumi makes a lonely life for himself in Tokyo, until Kageyama wiggles his way in there.





	Right Place, Right Time

"I just landed in Tokyo."

"You need a ride?"

"… Yes," Kageyama's voice on the other end says, quietly.

"What airline?"

Iwaizumi jots down the airport, airline, and Kageyama's gate. He hangs up, packing away his desk for the day.

"You're in a good mood," one of his coworkers says as he heads for the elevators, and Iwaizumi realizes he's smiling.

He agrees that he is, and says he'll see them tomorrow.

Last month, the Hisamitsu Springs beat the Toray Arrows, ending Kageyama's season earlier than usual. Iwaizumi planned for a half day as soon as he saw it: Kageyama would need a place to stay. 

It's not the strangest thing that Kageyama doesn't have his own apartment yet. He certainly has the money, but he's spent the majority of his adult life being directed to hotels, where he's been handed a key card and told what room he will be sleeping in, until he's directed to another hotel, in another city. As with most things that don't involve playing volleyball, Kageyama is a little hopeless when it comes to being accountable for his own presence. 

There was never any guarantee that he'd look to Iwaizumi for guidance, of course. It was entirely possible he'd call his mother, and spend the next few months of his off season in Miyagi. 

But he didn't. Just like the past four off seasons, Kageyama called Iwaizumi, and it's enough to put him in a good mood all the way to Haneda Airport.

~

Kageyama is still in university the first time. 

Like it was written in the stars, the final round of the Intercollegiate Volleyball Championship has Oikawa and Kageyama setting on opposing teams.

Iwaizumi's own team lost in the quarter finals, then fell out of the loser's bracket, 2 to 1, but he shows up the next three days to support Oikawa, along with nearly the entire Aoba Johsai roster, past and present. Iwaizumi is rooting for Oikawa, always, of course he is, but he knows Oikawa's moves; they practiced together just last week. 

It's been years since he's last seen Kageyama, and three points in, he's entranced. 

This is Kageyama at his best. 

He was astonishing in high school, but back then there was a sort of eerie, mechanical precision to his movements. He had passion, but trying to manage his emotions made his playing somewhat soulless. It's nothing Iwaizumi would've been able to put into words if he didn't have this to compare it to – a Kageyama at peace with himself, and in perfect, easy synchrony with his team. His movements are fluid, his form tighter than ever, his confidence and control of the ball, his body, looks effortless. 

Toward the end of the first set, Iwaizumi begins to seriously worry that this might be it, Kageyama might actually win, and he feels an awful, sinking dread. After this, Oikawa graduates. It will be out of his hands if he plays again, he'll have to hope to be scouted. He's already got a few tempting leads, but no promises, and there's a possibility that won't happen. This could be Oikawa's last real game, ever, and it will be an absolute doozy on his psyche if he's defeated, again, by Tobio – this time a deathblow. 

Iwaizumi is usually a pretty mellow spectator, but he's on his feet through the second and third sets, gripping the railing like it's his own fate on the line, shouting his throat raw. 

To his relief, Oikawa's team pulls ahead in the middle of the second set and keeps the momentum into the third, winning them a victory of 34 to 32.

Thank god.

The stadium shouts and stomps, and the players clear the court. 

Both teams officially host the championship's closing celebrations immediately afterward, a dinner surrounded by photo ops and interviews. It's crowded and loud, with the two setters who starred in the game at the center of it all, standing nearly back to back.

Despite his impressive performance, interest in awkward, inarticulate Kageyama quickly starts dying off – 

_"Did you practice hard this season?"_

_"Yes."_

_"After this loss, are there any goals you have for future games?"_

_"To win."_

_"This was a very close game. Is there anything about your opponents that stood out?"_

_"They're strong."_

While reporters swarm eagerly around charismatic, eloquent Oikawa – 

_"Practice hard this season?"_

_"Yes – our team is full of strong, experienced players, and our biggest concern preparing for the tournament was making sure we didn't waste that. We mainly focused on to syncing together properly... "_

Iwaizumi waits off to the side, drink in hand, watching. His worry that Oikawa might be overlooked by professional teams seem childishly naive, now. Three years playing in college have matured and settled Oikawa in a very real way. He's found the perfect balance of professionalism and charm, the entire room is eating out of his hand. He could keep this up for hours, and would probably be delighted to do it. By tomorrow, his name will be synonymous with the tournament itself. 

"Would you say that anyone on your team contributed to the loss more than others?"

"No."

Iwaizumi blinks. That's Kageyama's sullen, angry voice. He's pressed against the wall, separated from the rest of his team – and as Iwaizumi looks, sees only a few even remain. The majority have apparently used Kageyama's distraction to escape, most likely to save face after that especially agonizing defeat. Kageyama is unable to do the same, and he looks irritated, both at the reporter's presence and at his question, and Iwaizumi sees the tight wobble of his chin.

Kageyama has never been a graceful loser.

"Really? It seemed like your number 5 was regularly missing receives," the reporter says. "In fact, I'd say that was the biggest reason you lost the second set – "

"Naoki-san is a wing spiker," Kageyama finally snaps, close to a shout, and the reporter's face lights up in victory, writing this down. "Oikawa-san deliberately targets players who – "

"Kageyama." 

Both of them look up at Iwaizumi in surprise. "Iwaizumi-san," Kageyama says, stunned, and vaguely guilty, like he's expecting to be scolded.

Iwaizumi nods toward the bar in the corner. "Let me buy you a drink."

Kageyama blinks in surprise, then takes a sharp breath, distancing himself from his annoyance with the reporter, and follows. 

"Wait – Kageyama-kun," the reporter says. "You were saying? About Oikawa, the other team's setter?"

Kageyama falters, but by then he's close enough for Iwaizumi to put a hand on his shoulder and guide him away, giving the reporter a dark, warning look. _Back off_. The guy just smiles cheekily. 

"I don't know if anyone's told you," Iwaizumi says. "But you don't have to answer any of their questions."

Kageyama nods, stiffly. 

Iwaizumi looks him over. After the graceful creature he saw on the court, he supposes he was expecting something different, but – Kageyama is still the long, thin line of a boy Iwaizumi remembers, the one who looks perpetually fresh from a growth spurt, muscles long and thin and lean, but by now Iwaizumi's fairly sure is just his body type. He can't even tell if Kageyama's gotten much taller, which is a surprise. He was sure Kageyama was well on the way to outpacing Oikawa, but it looks like he didn't fully manage. 

They reach the bar, and Iwaizumi buys him a drink. He hands it to Kageyama, who stares at it blankly. 

Iwaizumi lifts his own in the air. Cheers. "You played well."

Ah. That does it. With a furious little exhale, Kageyama grinds the flat of his palm against his eye, but the tears still leak through. He turns his head sharply, hiding his face from the rest of the room, shaking all over, trying desperately to contain the disappointment crashing through him.

Iwaizumi rests his hand between his shoulders, waiting it out. 

Finally, Kageyama stops shaking, sniffling hard. "We'll win next time."

"I know," Iwaizumi says, and means it. He takes a look around the room, which is in full celebration mode now that the rest of Kageyama's team has left. Oikawa's team is having group photos taken, while reporters wait off to the side for Oikawa to finish for round two. "Want a ride back to your hotel?"

Kageyama shakes his head, looking embarrassed. "We checked out today."

"Back to your school?"

"The semester’s over."

Iwaizumi takes another sip of his drink. There are more reasonable suggestions to make, but – in that moment, after watching the brilliant player Kageyama has become, and how awkwardly he handled himself with the rest of the room, Iwaizumi feels greedy, and a little protective.

"I have an extra futon if you want to spend the night in the city." 

Kageyama is so startled he gapes like a fish. "You – th-that's – "

Iwaizumi laughs, and saves him from having to respond, changing the topic to something lighter – Iwaizumi's classes, his last interview. 

"You're getting an office job?"

"Hopefully."

Kageyama looks like he might try to fight about this, but it was a decision that had to be made. Iwaizumi's not a stellar student, and not a prodigy player. To succeed at one, he had to sacrifice the other. It is possible – possible – with his connections, he could've played in a league, on the bench for a while, if he was lucky. Maybe for a season or two. That's not a prospect he could build his life around. 

"But," Kageyama says. "You broke through Dateko's wall."

There's never any kind of performance when it comes to Kageyama. He says it like that, like a child talking about a firefighter or a superhero, because that's genuinely how Kageyama feels about it, and Iwaizumi has to cough, feeling the blush in the tips of his ears.

"It's not like I'm going to stop playing entirely."

Kageyama still looks disgruntled. Iwaizumi buys him another drink and they take it out to the steps of the stadium, to escape the boisterous cheering and laughter.

They sit in silence for a moment, and Iwaizumi combs his mind for something that doesn't have to do with volleyball. 

He finds himself talking about his family – his mother weeping when Iwaizumi moved out, a stupid fight while setting up his new apartment, when he and his father tried to install new lights. 

It can be hard to read Kageyama at times, he smiles a little as Iwaizumi talks, but he's pretty sure he's boring the boy, and is surprised, happily, when Kageyama actually shares his own story in response – an equally stupid fight he got in with his friend, Hinata, when they tried to assemble a pergola swing for Hinata's mother. It's told awkwardly, a bit rambling, the punchline buried somewhere in the middle, trailing off at the end, but he's allowing Iwaizumi to distract him from his loss, and Iwaizumi laughs encouragingly, which makes Kageyama's cheeks turn a little pink.

"So," Iwaizumi says. "You like Tokyo?"

Kageyama shrugs, staring forward at the city in front of them, bored disinterest in his face. "I've only ever seen the stadium," he says. "Do you like Tokyo?"

"There's a lot to do," Iwaizumi says. "The downtown area." He's thinking, specifically, of the gay bars. Obviously Iwaizumi is not going to say so, but even admitting that much gets his heart picking up a bit, as though Kageyama will be able to read his mind. 

"Think he's gonna get lucky?" Iwaizumi asks.

Kageyama looks where Iwaizumi nodded toward a young couple walking on the other side of the street. Probably college students, heads ducked together for privacy, a pink shine over the woman's cheeks as he whispers something to her.

"Maybe," Kageyama says. 

He looks a little flustered, pink rising in his own cheeks, and it's not until then, seeing the mirroring body language between the couple and themselves, that Iwaizumi realizes he is subtly, gently flirting with Kageyama. 

Well. His body knows what it wants from Kageyama, probably since the moment he saw him on the court. It's only now that his mind catches up, and he notices the painfully vulnerable back of Kageyama's neck, hair still the exact same style he's had since grade school. His hypnotically dark eyes, the new strength in his shoulders, the elegant line of his jaw... 

These aren't things he was expecting to notice about Kageyama, and it's probably a bad thing that he did, but Iwaizumi is feeling good and daring enough to roll with it. 

"Come on," he says, standing from the steps of the stadium and smacking Kageyama's shoulder. He takes him to a vendor nearby that sells sashimi. They eat, and Iwaizumi is careful to keep the conversation as light as before, volleyball free, coaxing a few more stories out of Kageyama, paying attention to what makes him smile, and pursuing it. 

When he offers his apartment again, a good two hours later, Kageyama says yes.

Nothing will happen. 

Iwaizumi's interest is solidly in the realm of fantasy. He knows Kageyama is straight, and nothing about this is reciprocal. Even if it somehow is – _and it isn't_ , the mantra Iwaizumi's learned, and scolded himself with since middle school, any time anyone caught his eye, anytime it really did seem like maybe Oikawa wasn't joking, maybe it actually meant something – _it isn't, he isn't, it doesn't_ – the conversation clearly means a lot to Kageyama on a purely innocent level. Iwaizumi isn't going to taint it. 

Even knowing this, though, Iwaizumi still has to stop himself from resting his hand on the small of Kageyama's back as they wait for the elevator at his apartment. 

It's late by the time they make it inside, Iwaizumi rolls out the futon, and gives Kageyama his bed, and that's that. 

He makes Kageyama eggs in the morning, but by lunch he's figured out where he'd like to spend the rest of his semester break, and is gone. 

Iwaizumi assumes this is the final chapter in their strange, off kilter relationship: washing the dishes Kageyama used to eat his eggs. He's grateful because it feels a bit like redemption, and that's really all he could ask for. 

There's a familiar loneliness as Iwaizumi sets the last plate on the rack to dry, and stares over his quiet, empty apartment.

He's had a handful of relationships while in Tokyo, in this apartment, in this bed. The one Kageyama slept in. Only one of them approached anything serious, but it fizzled out mutually after a few months, and ultimately left Iwaizumi feeling lonelier than he had before. 

Iwaizumi is not prone to fantastical thinking, but he _had_ imagined there'd be more opportunities for him in a big city like Tokyo. 

There are no gay bars in Miyagi. There are people who know him, though, and people close enough to know his secrets and preferences, even if none of them happened to share it. In Tokyo it is the reverse. There are more men, and more men who want to fuck other men, but he still has to go back to Miyagi to speak to anyone who actually cares to know him. 

He's yet to find someone who can do both.

~

Iwaizumi does not expect the phone call, seven months later.

"Where are you?"

"Taiwan," Kageyama says. "But," his voice grows so quiet as he goes on it's basically just a muttered rumble by the end. "I could.. fly to Tokyo. If you want."

"Alright," Iwaizumi says, matching Kageyama's quiet, solemn tone, but smiling. He cancels the date he had planned as soon as he hangs up.

Kageyama lands, Iwaizumi greets him at the airport, and does not ask about Kageyama's parents, his friends, his past or current teammates or any other option that he could've picked instead of Iwaizumi, not wanting to make him feel insecure about it. It's a little weird, but Iwaizumi was a little weird for suggesting it the first time. Fair's fair.

They get take out on the way home, he asks about Kageyama's flight – _"Boring."_ – Iwaizumi talks about his new boss – _"Sort of a dick."_

Kageyama intends to stay a week this time, which is fine with Iwaizumi. He almost never gets sick and has time off to burn. 

They agree to take turns making meals, though Kageyama is awful at it and Iwaizumi would like to tell him to just stop. Unfortunately, they're not at that level – manners say Kageyama should be a helpful guest, and as a polite host, Iwaizumi ought to let him try.

When trying to decide what to watch on that first night, Iwaizumi learns that Kageyama is not a fan of high concept sci-fi and fantasy – too much of a literal thinker, maybe. But zombies are fine, and there are plenty of shows about that, so they binge an entire three seasons in one week. This wasn't the plan, originally he was going to spend the week showing Kageyama around the city, take him to some of his favorite restaurants and other human being-style activities, but they're both immediately hooked by the first episode, going to the next, then the next, until it's two in the morning and they're still reluctant to stop.

When Kageyama suggests it first thing after breakfast, Iwaizumi quickly agrees, and all other plans are forgotten.

This is something Iwaizumi's never done with another person - Oikawa never had the patience to marathon anything properly, and if there's any show that Hanamaki, Matsukawa and Iwaizumi all like, they've yet to find it. With the windows to his apartment pulled shut and only answering the door for deliveries, he and Kageyama are cocooned together in their own little, post-apocalyptic reality, barely needing to speak as they go from one episode to the next. It's the sort of bonding experience that can jump start any relationship, and toward the end of the week he's started to think of Kageyama as his friend, properly.

So, it's after the third episode of the day, and instead of making the grunt that they've decided means _next episode?_ , Iwaizumi says, "You're starting to smell." 

Kageyama blinks.

"Go take a shower," Iwaizumi says, standing up and stretching. "And I'm making lunch this time. You're not going to keep ruining my food." 

Kageyama stands, then pauses for a moment. "You – " he looks just about anywhere but Iwaizumi. "Could also take a shower. Iwaizumi-san."

Iwaizumi is surprised, then laughs, and agrees he'll take his turn after Kageyama. He opens the windows to his apartment and switches out the sheets on the futon, as well, then sets out a fresh pair of pajamas for Kageyama to change into.

When it's his turn in the shower, he frowns down at his stomach. It's only been a week, and he's not playing for an official team anymore, but Iwaizumi has a very strict work out schedule. Kageyama likely does, as well, and Iwaizumi is thinking about the next time Kageyama visits – if/when – he'd probably appreciate a trip to Iwaizumi's gym.

He's opening his mouth to offer this as he steps out of the bathroom, towel over his shoulders. He stops when Kageyama looks up from lunch.

Eyes wander, and linger on eye-catching things. Iwaizumi has a nice body, and he knows it, and he knows what it looks like when straight men look at his body: blank, sometimes appreciative, jealous, but always impartial. 

Kageyama's gaze is only on him for a moment, he doesn't even look especially close, but. It was not impartial. 

More damning is the quickness that he looks away, the same sharp, guilty movement Iwaizumi knows he's done himself in the past. _He's not, it isn't, it isn't._

"U-uh," Iwaizumi says, utterly derailed from whatever he had been about to say, and quickly walks to his bedroom to get dressed. 

You would have to be a gay man who grew up in a small, traditional town to understand the worry in Kageyama's face when he comes back into the room. The tension in his shoulders and line between his eyebrows – he's afraid Iwaizumi noticed. It's easy to guess his thoughts, as well, because Iwaizumi has been in his shoes multiple times in the past. _Should I apologize? Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he didn't notice, and apologizing will make it worse, but maybe he did –_

"Another?" Iwaizumi asks, steamrolling through the tension, pointing at the television.

Relieved, Kageyama nods, sticking a riceball in his mouth and sitting back down on the futon, just a little further away than before. 

"When's your flight?" Iwaizumi asks as the title credits play.

"Tomorrow," Kageyama says. "In the morning."

"We'll still have two seasons left."

Kageyama nods.

"We'll have to watch the rest of it when you visit again," Iwaizumi says.

"Y-yeah," Kageyama says, relaxing back against the futon, and they're able to finish the week in the same easy rhythm they had before. 

~

Iwaizumi stops following Kageyama's games.

He made it through high school by keeping a firm, white knuckled grip on reality, refusing to let himself slide into fantasy. It's what kept him sane and happy with what he had. Never allowing hope for more than friendship to get close enough to take root. He's been disciplining himself for years, so it is an infuriating thing, how quickly _Kageyama_ found a spot in Iwaizumi's mind as one of his most important people, and how immediately that wasn't enough. 

A look, he reminds himself, means nothing. 

An embarrassed look away means _nothing._

But he wants it to, desperately. Kageyama _knows_ him, knows the important things about Iwaizumi, knows Iwaizumi broke through Dateko's wall. Iwaizumi genuinely enjoyed his company, and he's also grown into himself in a very real way, turning heads when he walks down the street. Kageyama has become gorgeous, it would be perfect, and Iwaizumi can feel the sickly, starving thing inside himself, whispering tempting rationales – _you saw it. What else could it be? Why would a straight man want to spend his free time like that? He's never had a girlfriend, has he?_ – but this is nearly identical to the torture Iwaizumi went through in middle school. _Oikawa_ would've been perfect, too. That didn't make it happen.

Iwaizumi doesn't even have any guarantees Kageyama will even call again. 

It was two looks, and two visits. That's it.

So Iwaizumi wakes up early, works himself hard in the gym, hard at the office, goes out for drinks, day after day, and does not think about Kageyama. 

His workload certainly makes this easy enough to pull off. They're waist-deep in their busy season, and everyone in his department has been working long hours deep into the night. They're in the middle of an especially demanding case when Iwaizumi gets the call.

"I'm in Tokyo."

Kageyama sounds happy, and it immediately dissolves all Iwaizumi's knotted over-thinking, even the tension from his job melting from his shoulders - Kageyama is happy to call, Iwaizumi is happy to answer. _Simple, see?_

"Going home early?"

"Just for a minute," Iwaizumi says, pulling on his jacket. "I'll be back."

"Iwaizumi-kun's poor, neglected girlfriend is getting lonely ~ " another coworker says, grinning.

"What?" Iwaizumi says, turning around sharply.

"Look at you! You're totally going to meet up with your super cute girlfriend."

"Take your time, Iwaizumi-kun," says their boss, waving him away. "You're young. This will still be here when you get back."

"Right," Iwaizumi says, and knows his face is red as he leaves. He'll have to make it back as quickly as possible, or the teasing about what he did, with who, will be relentless. Of course they'll only see it as friendly, having no idea the about twitching, sensitive nerve they're grinding their heels into. 

Iwaizumi has done such a good job burrowing his head down into the sand he doesn't find out that Kageyama made it to the final round of the Intercollegiate Volleyball Championship, again, until he asked to be picked up from the Tokyo stadium rather than the airport. He doesn't find out that Kageyama actually won until he climbs into Iwaizumi's car with a proud flush on his face, and a medal in his hands, unable to stop staring at it with a pinched up, wobbly smile. 

"Congratulations," Iwaizumi says.

"Thank you," Kageyama says. He assumes Iwaizumi watched the game, and spends the ride to Iwaizumi's alternating between silence and randomly bringing up certain plays he's especially proud of. Iwaizumi goes along with it as best he can, vowing to watch the game during his lunch break at work. 

"There were agents. There was a scout from the Toray Arrows," Kageyama says, running his thumb along the edge of the medal. 

"Of course there were," Iwaizumi says, grinning. "You can't be surprised."

"I get to keep playing."

Iwaizumi has literally never heard anyone sound so reverently happy in his life, and when he looks over Kageyama is still smiling, a little softer now. 

The fact that he will have to drop Kageyama off, and go back to work, is so maddening Iwaizumi wants to punch something.

"Don't wait up," Iwaizumi tells Kageyama, handing him the spare key he keeps in his glove compartment, knowing just how big the stack of work waiting for him is. He's not going to be able to take any time off for the next month. 

He expects this to be frustrating, but something unexpected happens in the following week, with Iwaizumi continuing with his normal routine.

He wakes up early, and goes to the gym, and goes to work, and nothing is really all that different, except the fact that he knows Kageyama is in his home. Kageyama is waiting, puttering around, maybe looking through Iwaizumi's drawers, eating the food in his cabinets, sleeping in late with Iwaizumi's sheets wrapped around his body. 

The lights are already on in his apartment when Iwaizumi comes home each night, because Kageyama is there to greet him, sometimes with an attempt at a meal that he is slowly, slowly showing improvement on. They eat together, watch a movie or show, and say good night.

Iwaizumi is looking up a nice restaurant to go to this weekend, to give Kageyama's win an appropriate celebration, when a coworker stops by his desk, and glances at his screen.

"Ooh la la," she laughs. "Planning to propose?" 

"What?" Iwaizumi says.

"Nothing. I was kidding," she says, smiling, dropping off the stack of paperwork for him to sign off on. "That's a really nice place. Your girlfriend is lucky!"

Iwaizumi looks again at the screen, unaware of just how happy he'd been until it starts dimming.

It was a look. Two looks. Three visits, now. But they mean nothing, Iwaizumi reminds himself. Kageyama is straight. Kageyama is going to leave, with no promise to return.

How had he forgotten? Iwaizumi was able to keep his guard up all through _Oikawa's_ flirting from grade school on, which was tantamount to artillery bombardment. But Kageyama just keeps slipping through, with nothing more than a soft, quiet knock. Iwaizumi is furious with himself for growing so weak, for being so willing to go along with it

Like a coward, Iwaizumi decides to stay way later than usual that night. There's only one lamp on by the time he gets home, Kageyama asleep on the futon.

"Sorry," Kageyama slurs when the door opens, sitting upright without opening his eyes. "Tried to stay up."

"It's alright," Iwaizumi says, heart aching at Kageyama's face, soft with sleep, dazed eyes, his ruffled hair. "Go back to sleep."

Kageyama nods, laying back down. Iwaizumi pulls out leftovers from the day before, and watches him drop back to sleep, just that easy. 

Iwaizumi takes the bed that night. It smells like Kageyama, which means the futon must smell like himself, and he tries not to think about the way Kageyama was wrapped tight around the pillow.

"Do you want to go apartment hunting this weekend?" Iwaizumi asks, over breakfast the next morning. 

Kageyama freezes.

Iwaizumi doesn't back down.

Iwaizumi has decided there is an obvious explanation for Kageyama's behavior: there's something Kageyama's trying to avoid at home. His childhood home. He's embarrassed to admit it to his closer friends, and Iwaizumi – Iwaizumi's apartment – is the perfect solution. This is fine, and if Iwaizumi wasn't losing his goddamn mind, he wouldn't say anything about it. But he's finding himself getting worked up at the sight of Kageyama's inner wrist, the bite marks he leaves on an apple. It's getting absurd, and for his sanity, he needs some distance.

"Apartment hunting?"

"You want a place in the city, right? If you got your own – "

" _No!_ "

Iwaizumi blinks.

"I want – " Kageyama's pupils are pinpricks, and he looks stricken, like he was just stabbed in the gut as he stares down at his plate. 

Iwaizumi goes perfectly still, waiting.

"I wanted – I liked to – be with you."

Iwaizumi stares, blinking, and as the silence stretches, Kageyama's face grows redder, and his eyes start to water, it finally hits Iwaizumi that – it's _exactly_ what it sounds like. 

"Sorry for being rude," Kageyama forces out, stiffly, and starts to stand, but Iwaizumi grabs his wrist. 

Kageyama stiffens in fear, cringing like he expects to be hit, or yelled at, or any of the other options available to Iwaizumi if he was a straight man who had been threatened with the possibility of intimacy from another man.

"I'm gay," Iwaizumi says. 

Kageyama's mouth goes slack.

"And I like being with you, too," he says, letting go of Kageyama's wrist, looking off to the side. "I like it a lot. Honestly."

Kageyama sits back down, blinking back his tears, calming down. 

"You – don't want me to leave?"

"No," he says. 

Kageyama stares a few moments longer, then slowly starts eating breakfast again.

Iwaizumi is sure this ruined everything, or at least dented it, but there is no awkwardness. He leaves for work as planned, and Kageyama says his usual goodbye, andwhen Iwaizumi comes back that evening, he sees Kageyama has attempted to make yet another dinner. It's awful, and Iwaizumi loves it. 

Over the weekend Iwaizumi notices Kageyama watching him carefully, as though looking for clues he must have missed before.

"Does Oikawa-san know?" Kageyama blurts out on the way back from the gym on Saturday.

Iwaizumi nods. "I told my teammates in high school."

Kageyama's mouth is an astonished little circle. "You're still – friends?"

Iwaizumi nods. "Have you told anyone?"

Kageyama shakes his head. From what Iwaizumi saw, he's pretty sure his friends from Karasuno wouldn't react that poorly, but Kageyama would certainly know better than him. 

They leave the topic there, for now, and what a strange situation to be in. Would a straight man find himself in a position like this? In some sort of in-between confession of preferences and interest? But by the time Monday comes around, Iwaizumi feels comfortable thinking about Kageyama in this way, the way he's thought about strangers he's met in bars, and he starts letting it roll around freely in his mind all day at work. 

Sex with Kageyama. 

He knows more about Kageyama than he has any of his sexual partners so far, and it's – exciting. What would he be like in bed? The confident and certain setter, the one with expert control over his body and full awareness of everything around him? Or the awkwardly intense and stiff boy, who stands just outside most social situations, having to ease slowly into them when forced, often stuttering as he does. 

Iwaizumi wants to find out. 

Impulsively, Iwaizumi stands up from his desk, and walks to his boss's office.

"It's my girlfriend's birthday," Iwaizumi says.

His boss looks over his shoulder, processing that slowly. "You want the rest of the day?"

Iwaizumi nods.

"Good," his boss says. "I was getting worried about you, Iwaizumi-kun."

Iwaizumi nods again, and leaves. 

It's not even noon, but luckily Kageyama has woken up and changed out of his pajamas. He jumps to his feet in surprise when Iwaizumi walks through the door, and doesn't protest when Iwaizumi says he wants to show him something, pulling on his shoes and following him out the door.

"I keep meaning to give you a tour of the city," Iwaizumi says. "You've only see the stadium, right?"

"And your apartment."

Iwaizumi nods.

The first guy Iwaizumi hooked up with in Tokyo had been a native to the city, and once he found out Iwaizumi was new – and from Miyagi, of all places – had talked him into leaving the bar, then up to Tokyo City Hall. A massive skyscraper with an observatory on the forty-fifth floor, and a view that was enough to stun even Iwaizumi. Since then it's been a staple for Iwaizumi whenever taking someone home needs a little finesse – it's probably cliché to Tokyo natives, but Iwaizumi's found that even if his partner has seen it already, it sets the appropriate mood.

Iwaizumi and Kageyama get crepes from a vendor, then Iwaizumi takes him up to the hall, up to the observatory.

The elevator doors opens on a room of solid, floor to ceiling windows, the bright blue sky interrupted by the crowning tips of various buildings. Walking deeper into the room shows the streets below, the parks and the lake, and the city itself, the intricate, carefully laid lines of streets and sidewalks, going on and on into the distance.

Iwaizumi looks over his shoulder, because Kageyama has been silent – 

Because Kageyama is looking down at his shirt, where a bit of chocolate from his crepe has dripped, scowling. 

"Kageyama?"

Kageyama looks up, then frowns, glancing around the space, then almost as an afterthought, the view. "How high are we?"

"Forty-five flights."

"Oh," Kageyama says, and takes a large bite of his crepe. He leans against the railing, blinking out over it impassively. "This is too high up for a tour. You can't see anything."

"Still," Iwaizumi says, biting hard on his cheek to stop the exasperated smile. "It's a nice view."

Kageyama nods. He's – very obviously bored. What is Iwaizumi doing? This is not the sort of thing that would work with Kageyama. He already knows what works with Kageyama, it's what he's been doing from the start, being utterly upfront and honest.

"I've brought a few friends up here," Iwaizumi says. "It usually impresses them."

"Oh."

"But you're not impressed," Iwaizumi says, crossing his arms, turning his back to the view as he leans on the railing.

Kageyama watches him out the corner of his eye, processing that. He knows the moment it finishes – that Kageyama realizes Iwaizumi was trying to impress him – because his eyes go a bit wider, ears turning pink.

"I already – know you, though," Kageyama says. "You're already impressive."

Iwaizumi closes his eyes, shaken again at Kageyama's utterly sincere tone. And he's not even _trying_. 

"I'm not sure if I was clear, before," Iwaizumi says. "When we talked about this. But I'm interested in you."

Kageyama nods, slowly.

"… Sexually."

"Yeah, th-that's," Kageyama looks away, the blush slow and dark on his face. "I hoped."

It suddenly hits Iwaizumi, exactly what he's saying. "I don't mean that anything has to happen," he says. "This isn't – you don't have to, I just wanted you to know."

"I want to." Kageyama says it so forcefully it startles the both of them, hitching his shoulders up with how much he means it. "I really want to. With you. You're," he struggles for a second, running a hand through his hair. "Impressive."

Iwaizumi stands upright, taking a step toward Kageyama, and satisfying an urge he's had, probably since the first time he met Kageyama, as a first year. He puts his hand on Kageyama's cheek, and feels the intense heat of his blush. 

"I'm so much happier when you're around," Iwaizumi says, thoughtfully, still not quite sure how it happened. 

He thinks about kissing Kageyama. He knows when the idea occurs to Kageyama, as well, because it sends a sharp, unpleasant sting of fear. Honestly even touching like this is too much of a risk, if someone else should walk in.

Frustrated, wondering what could've happened, the moment they could've had in a different sort of world, Iwaizumi drops his hand. 

They head down the elevator, and Iwaizumi takes him on a short walk of his favorite area on the way back to his apartment, finally giving him a tour, even if it is a little half assed. Kageyama isn't paying attention anyway. They're obviously thinking the same thing, and there's palpable excitement between them as they make it back to Iwaizumi's apartment.

"I've never," Kageyama says, once in the bedroom, on the bed, taking his shirt off.

Iwaizumi nods. "I'd be surprised if you had, considering you haven't come out to anyone."

Still, never. Never anything, with anyone. Kisses, holding hands, hugs – nothing. It's a lot of loneliness.

"I thought about – " Kageyama says, voice heavy with embarrassment. "A few times. But."

"What do you want to try?"

"What do you like?" Kageyama says, obviously evading the question. 

"I like playing it by ear."

Kageyama nods. 

Kageyama wants to kiss him. His eyes are darting, quick and hungry, from Iwaizumi's eyes to his mouth. Iwaizumi waits until his mouth goes slack, just slightly, lips parting, before crossing the distance for him. 

He goes slow. He's teaching. He doesn't mind the inexperience, he finds it charming and would enjoy weeks and months of clumsy kisses from Kageyama, but he also knows Kageyama will be trying to learn, as quickly as he can. His lips stay passive and slack as Iwaizumi presses against them, then a beat later he's doing his best to mimic it, jaw a little too enthusiastic, then calming down.

Iwaizumi pulls back, and Kageyama's takes a sharp, shaking, excited breath in. 

The blue of his eyes is so sharp and intense, Iwaizumi feels like they leave an afterimage dancing in front of his own eyes when he closes them, when Kageyama surges forward for another kiss, hungry, and excited, and so eager he's shaking with it under Iwaizumi's hands. 

"Fast learner," Iwaizumi huffs out a laugh against his lips, tipping him backward against the bed.

Kageyama drops, willingly, hands open on either side of his head. Utterly trusting, utterly unafraid, ready for whatever Iwaizumi wants to do with him. 

Iwaizumi takes it in, feeling arousal burn pleasantly down his gut, to his thickening dick. He runs his hand down Kageyama's stomach, resting it on the soft skin just above his own erection, watching Kageyama's expression grow more heated as his hand moves lower, then lower, until it's under the waist band of his shorts and gripping the base of Kageyama's cock.

He keeps his eyes locked on Kageyama as he feels out the length of it, feeling how firm it's grown, thicker and surer, while Kageyama's expression grows more broken, flushed, and wanting. 

He doesn't expect Kageyama to spread his legs, but he does, lifting one knee up to open himself further. Iwaizumi's not sure if this is a thoughtless reaction, or a request with his body he's too embarrassed to voice, but he slides fingers dripping and slicked up with lube back, down between the firm plumpness of Kageyama's rear. 

Kageyama makes a sharp, desperate noise, poorly muffled, and Iwaizumi looks back up to see his lips pinched again.

"Okay?" he asks.

Kageyama nods sharply, his fingers gripping the bottom of his dick tight, as if afraid he'll come.

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow. 

_Oh._

Iwaizumi had been intimidated at the thought of anal, at first, on both ends. As someone who puts a lot of work into taking care of his body, it just seemed like a lot that could go wrong. It took bit of experimentation, but he's since discovered why so many guys enjoy it, and the specific joy of watching another man cry out at the feel of his dick forcing their body open, forcing their backs to arch, their dicks to drip eagerly as he does, until he forces them to come.

The way Kageyama's eyes go distant and the blush grows an angry, splotchy red, from his cheeks up to his forehead, makes Iwaizumi pretty sure this isn't a problem Kageyama had.

He moves his fingers, pressing in a little more insistent against that tightly pucker flesh, and Kageyama's mouth wobbles, making it pretty clear that he's been thinking about someone's slick fingers against his hole for long, long time. That he's been wanting to get fucked, by a man.

Iwaizumi licks his lips, the idea is – a really nice one. He removes his fingers just long enough to add more lube, determined to make this everything Kageyama had imagined. 

He keeps a lazy hand one Kageyama's dick, working it up and down, but most of his focus is below that, laying out properly between Kageyama's long legs to get a decent look at what he's doing – it's something he's never done before, this view, and he's pleased that he tried, because the sight of his fingers inside Kageyama, slowly working him wider and wider, the pink flesh slowly welcoming him in.

"I-Iwaizumi – " Kageyama suddenly calls, his knees pressing together tightly over Iwaizumi's head. He freezes.

"What?"

Kageyama shakes his head no, like he doesn't know what else to say, and Iwaizumi frowns. 

"Is this alright?"

"Y-yeah."

"Is it too fast?"

"I – you – " Kageyama stutters out, his neck and chest have turned red, too. "T-talk?"

Iwaizumi huffs, heart clenching, and he has to lean down, forcing Kageyama's legs against his chest as he kisses him again. 

"Okay," he says, on his way back down. He can talk to Kageyama. He can do whatever Kageyama needs. He swallows as he takes in the sight of Kageyama's wet, slightly red hole. "You look really good down here, Tobio."

Kageyama slaps his hand over his mouth, whining slightly. 

Iwaizumi pushes his fingers back in. "Would you let me eat you out one day?" he asks, having to peer around Kageyama's wet dick to see his expression. Kageyama swallows, then after a pause, nods. "I've never done it, but… you look really good. Wanna try."

He keeps working his fingers in, petting and stretching, and he knows the moment he hit _just right_ when Kageyama's hips jump up from the mattress. 

"God. Fuck," Iwaizumi says, forcing himself to calm down. "That's – you're fucking responsive, huh?" 

"Felt good," Kageyama sobs out, like he's embarrassed. He's stroking his dick now, milking it up and down with greedy motions of his hand, peering up at him with wet eyes. It's, easily, the best thing Iwaizumi's ever seen in his bed.

"Good," Iwaizumi says, finding it again, and this time Kageyama's hips grind down, into the mattress, trying to figure out how to endure the pleasure pulsing through his body. "God, I want to see how you move when I fuck you."

He's not disappointed. Kageyama is tight, he's too excited and inexperienced for anything else, and he shivers the entire time Iwaizumi pushes in, his long legs wrapping around Iwaizumi's waist and flexing almost desperately. Kageyama softens slightly, so Iwaizumi slows down, and focuses on his dick again, stroking it with hands still slick from the lube that have completely ruined his sheets. He went overboard, used way too much, but he can't bring himself to regret it. 

After another moment for Kageyama to adjust, he starts fucking seriously.

Kageyama is loud. He tips his head back and sobs, gripping the sheet on either side of his head, yanking, until Iwaizumi leans in close enough for him to wrap his arms around his neck, clawing desperately down his back.

"Iwa – Iwaizumi – ple- please – "

"Please what, Tobio?" Iwaizumi asks, teasing, because he knows Kageyama doesn't know what he's asking for, he's just so utterly overwhelmed, tears starting to spill down his cheeks as Iwaizumi moves deeper, striking against his prostate with each thrust.

Kageyama gives up on speech, tipping his head back and wailing, but his body is too well trained to surrender completely. Instinctively, his hips have found Iwaizumi's rhythm and counter it, riding it and forcing _down_ just as Iwaizumi thrusts _up_ , jamming himself onto Iwaizumi's cock like it's too much but he can't help it, can't bring himself to stop as the pleasure drives him out of his mind. 

Iwaizumi wants to see Kageyama ride him. He wants to hold on to Kageyama's hips as he bounces, coming utterly undone while mounted on Iwaizumi's cock. As soon as he thinks that sudden, greedy thought, other possibility come flooding in; lifting Kageyama's leg up over his shoulder, both of them - on his hands and knees, ass in the air - eating him out like he requested, he wants to see Kageyama panting and spent, wrecked in every way possible, come spilling from his overfilled hole onto Iwaizumi's sheets. 

"You're the best," Iwaizumi finds himself saying, the words tumbling out of his mouth. "You're the best I've ever had, never gonna – want to fuck anyone like this." 

"Iwaizumi," he pants out, groping at Iwaizumi's hand on his hip. He's waiting for Kageyama to direct it where he wants – a second hand on his dick? To his mouth?

No, Kageyama just laces their fingers together, clinging tightly, staring up at Iwaizumi with an utterly ruined expression. Fucking fuck. How dare – how dare Kageyama Tobio be this fucking cute. 

He kisses him angrily, fucking him harder, because he can feel it coming, and he needs to take Kageyama with him. It's Kageyama's first time, he probably won't come just from his ass but – fuck, he loves it. He's a mess for it. He's sobbing in time as Iwaizumi goes faster, making sure to nail his prostate, pulling out then back, in long, heavy thrusts, until he reaches the peak and slams as deep as he can inside, making sure Kageyama takes all of it, never once loosening his grip on Kageyama's dick, until he tenses and shoots his hips up, coming with another cry of Iwaizumi's name.

Iwaizumi drops against the bedsheets, pulling Kageyama as close as he can to his chest, dazedly feeling like he just won the lottery. 

How – how did he get this boy? How did he get this lucky? He peers into Kageyama's face, as if the answers will appear there, then kisses him, feeling punch-drunk and stupid from orgasm. Kageyama's too spent to keep up with the intensity of the kiss, breaking it to pant for air, tears still wet on his cheeks. 

Iwaizumi is not usually this ridiculous after coming, but Kageyama really got him worked up. He wipes away the lingering tear trail on Kageyama's cheek and supposes they worked each other up. He has to bite down the urge to make endless, ridiculous promises. _I love you_ is there, thrumming like a pulse, wanting to get out. He won't say it, because that would be absurd, but he already knows, watching Kageyama's wet lips, wet eyes, his bangs rucked up ridiculously off his forehead - it's not going anywhere.

Kageyama spends the rest of his off season there, in Iwaizumi's apartment, in his bed, the full, long three months. 

They take walks during the weekends, see movies, they kiss one another awake in the mornings, after fucking at night, when it rains they sit out on the deck to watch, and the spare futon is packed away for good. 

~

This is the fourth time. Iwaizumi waits beside the baggage area, hands in the pockets of his jacket, eying the crowds, waiting. 

He's slightly nervous, now. Iwaizumi isn't one for a scene, and he knows Kageyama isn't, either. This relationship between them is new, as well, and Iwaizumi's not sure how they'll greet each other. The same as before? Like friends? He's trying to decide what he's comfortable with, because he's fairly sure if he leaves it up to Kageyama, it won't go anywhere.

This is wrong. 

He spots Kageyama in the crowd, and waves him over, and when he gets there, Kageyama surprises him by stepping in close, closer than friends would. Their fingers brush together gently, before catching, twining together, holding hands properly. 

"Welcome to Tokyo," Iwaizumi says, turning his face to press the words against Kageyama's jaw, eyes closed as he enjoys this. Kageyama obviously had a long trip, his shirt is ruffled and he smells like stale sweat, but it's a familiar thing by now, and everything from that to his heat and presence is reassurance that Kageyama is back, _finally_.

Kageyama nods shortly, resting his lips against the apple of Iwaizumi's cheek, not quite a kiss. They stand together for another moment.

There are more bags than usual this time, and Iwaizumi helps Kageyama carry them out to the car, filling his trunk and back seat. 

"Have you eaten?"

"No."

Iwaizumi nods. Instead of take out, he's heading to the market. "Sorry," he says. "You're probably tired but I didn't have time to pick up any groceries this week. I meant to get some yesterday."

"You were expecting me?" Kageyama asks, carefully picking at the fabric of his jacket.

"Expecting. Hoping, I guess," Iwaizumi says. 

He's not sure why this flusters Kageyama, but it does, and Iwaizumi grins, charmed by this renewed awkwardness, because he does feel the same in his chest, the flighty, excited beat of his heart. They're something new, now. He's excited to explore that.

They shop. Iwaizumi really did run out of time, but he's taking Kageyama to the store now entirely to fill one of his fairly pathetic domestic fantasies. It is a lonely thing to shop alone, only for himself, and Kageyama is an easy, patient shopper as they walk the aisles together, making up his mind quickly. Iwaizumi buys double the meat and eggs he usually does, between Kageyama and Oikawa he's well aware of a professional athlete's dietary needs by now. There's new items, as well, things Iwaizumi typically doesn't buy for himself, and he watches Kageyama pull them from the shelf. Milk, udon and soba noodles, kyoho grapes and almonds.

When they get home, Iwaizumi barely sets the groceries on the counter before Kageyama is on him, and his sheer excitement gets Iwaizumi half hard in seconds. 

Kageyama says another three months, and they spend nearly the entire time fucking, as if making up for the last four years. He has Kageyama over the table, against the wall, makes him sob and come all over his chest in the bathroom, pausing during an especially racy commercial to grab greedily at each other, Kageyama bouncing on his lap, eyes pinched shut in focus and pleasure, coming unraveled so sweetly. In the morning, before work, while Kageyama is still soft and loose from the night before, then heading to work with the satisfying knowledge that Kageyama is there, in his bed, utterly wrecked.

"Ha – Ha – Hajime – Hajime-san," he sobs while Iwaizumi churns up his insides after coming home from a full, unbearable eight hours of being apart. 

"Did you think about this? While I was at work?"

Kageyama sobs and nods. "I thought about you."

"You touch yourself? Thinking about me fucking you like this?"

"Ye- _Ah_ – yeah – "

"Yeah. I thought about you, too," Iwaizumi says, nodding to himself and letting his hips do as they like, and what they like is driving his fat, impossibly hard erection as deep into Kageyama as he can manage, and watching the way it makes his entire body arch in pleasure. 

"S'good," Kageyama sobs, louder than Iwaizumi is used to. "S – so good, you're so guh- good – "

More than a few nights end with Kageyama kneeling between Iwaizumi's legs, eyes half lidded as he swallows Iwaizumi's length into his mouth, and just holds it there, working his own dick like he's getting off on it, like Iwaizumi's cock down his throat is just so good he can't help himself. He'd be sure Kageyama was trying to be impressive by copying something he saw in porn, if he believed Kageyama ever watched porn.

"Just a natural cocksucker," Iwaizumi sighs, petting his hand down Kageyama's head. "Fuck, Tobio."

Kageyama is an especially touchy partner in the afterglow. He lingers close, wanting to pet and touch as much as possible. There's no self-consciousness in the way he seeks this out, and Iwaizumi is sure he has no idea about the connotations, that other partners might laugh and call him clingy, taunt him for wanting to cuddle, as some of Iwaizumi's partners have done in the past. Iwaizumi is going to do his best to make sure this is something Kageyama never experiences. They move around the kitchen getting breakfast ready after a very intense session the night before, and again Kageyama is more underfoot than help, but each awkward bump makes Iwaizumi so happy that his heart aches with it, taking the excuse to pin Kageyama to the closest surface and giving him a long, deep kiss. 

This is the honeymoon period, he knows, and he can't get enough of it. The three months together seems too short, now, and he doesn't know he made do with mere weeks before. 

Saying goodbye at the airport is particularly hard. Iwaizumi knows he's at the point, now, where they need a word for what they're doing. He needs promises. He needs to hear it. Kageyama seems to be in oblivious bliss, though, and Iwaizumi can't work up the nerve.

After a goodbye in the car that's too shameless for public, Iwaizumi helps with the luggage, and leaves, until Kageyama decides to call again.

~

Probably the kindest thing Oikawa ever did was never question Iwaizumi's feelings for him.

The obvious conclusion just about anyone would have once finding out about Iwaizumi's sexuality is that he had a crush on Oikawa. 

And he did. Several times. 

Falling in and out of reluctant love with his obnoxiously good looking, flirty, touchy best friend was the endlessly repeating song of his adolescence. There's nothing that could've prevented it, Iwaizumi was doomed from the moment they met, and it wasn't fair, it was _cruel_ , what the universe dealt him, how it ripped out his heart and tossed it toward Oikawa, who couldn't care for it the way it needed. Thankfully, Oikawa seems to realize this, and treats the whole issue with respectful distance.

Iwaizumi told Oikawa he was gay in their second year of high school, and his initial reaction was a sort of childlike confusion, perfectly silent, head tilting slowly to the side. 

There were no jokes, no teasing. If anything, Oikawa was surprisingly timid in the following weeks, like he was afraid Iwaizumi would vanish in a puff of smoke at the wrong word. This was a confusing reaction until Iwaizumi realized – he, himself, had been mentally bracing for years for this, aware that there was a real possibility the truth would shred their friendship apart. Iwaizumi had years, where Oikawa's had it dumped in his lap. 

It's not until college that Oikawa grows comfortable enough to start acting like himself about it, asking about Iwaizumi's love life in Tokyo, if he's been on any dates, pouting and whining and prodding when Iwaizumi shuts it down cold.

It's still the middle of the season when Iwaizumi has a New Years party, inviting his friends to his home – his old friends, his Miyagi friends. 

Hanamaki is dating a girl, but doesn't feel it's quite serious enough to bring her along. He seems to regret this when Matsukawa says he met his own date a week ago. 

"But she seems like a good time," he shrugs, arm around her shoulders and she flashes Hanamaki a peace sign.

Oikawa brings his beautiful wife and beautifully chubby infant, who will clearly be just as much of a heartbreaker as their father. Oikawa could not be more proud, shoving the child into Iwaizumi's arms than taking about fourteen selfies with all three of them. 

"And here I thought Iwaizumi would be the first one to settle down and have a kid," Hanamaki says, lifting the excitedly kicking infant high into the air.

This is met with an awkward silence. 

"Anyway," Oikawa says. "Still not seeing anyone, Iwa-chan?"

"Not at the moment," he says. At the moment, Kageyama is in Mishima.

Oikawa narrows his eyes, suspecting a trick, but then Matsukawa's date starts fawning loudly over how cute his child is, and Oikawa is distracted.

This is lucky, because less than a second later, Iwaizumi's phone rings. 

"Hajime." 

There's uncertainty in his voice as he tests this new ground. Iwaizumi grins. 

"Tobio," he says, watching the party in the next room, making sure none of them heard. Kageyama has started calling him about once a week, even when he doesn't really have much to share. They had a two calls during the previous week for Kageyama's birthday, so he wasn't expecting anything today, but he's glad. It feels like a good omen for the year to come.

"I'm in Tokyo."

Iwaizumi blinks, turning away from the party, sliding the door shut. 

"I – " Iwaizumi says. "I'd like to see you, then."

"Yes," Kageyama says, quickly, sounding relieved. "Yes – uhm. I – wanted to spend New Years with you."

Iwaizumi has to bite his tongue. Fuck Kageyama, he's not even trying to be cute. "I have some friends over," he admits, reluctantly. "Oikawa is here."

"Oh," Kageyama says. 

Silence.

"I'd still like to see you," Iwaizumi says.

"With your friends there?"

"I'd like to see you any time," he says, without thinking about it, really. It's true. 

He's spent enough time with Kageyama to hear the blush. "Okay."

No one looks twice when Iwaizumi comes back into the room, laughing and distracted by Oikawa's child making absurd faces as his mother allows them to mouth experimentally on an olive. 

"I have a friend coming over."

It gets everyone's attention. He's not sure what did it, but they clearly all understand the implication of _friend_. Oikawa's wife grabs at Oikawa's shirt, audibly inhaling.

"Don't be fucking weird about it," Iwaizumi warns, eyes narrowed, and he's immediately bombarded with reassurances from the lot of them – 

"No! We won't!"

"I wanna meet him, come on – "

"You never introduce us to any of – your friends!"

Iwaizumi sighs. "Oikawa. Want to come with me to pick him up?"

Oikawa is disarmed, but nods quickly, kisses his wife's cheek, and follows Iwaizumi out to his car. 

"To the airport?" Oikawa asks, merrily. "Your boyfriend was out of town? A big traveler?"

"Yes," Iwaizumi says. "I'm asking you to come because I don't want a scene in front of everyone."

"A _scene_?" Oikawa asks, and has actually been so well-behaved about this issue that Iwaizumi can understand his affronted tone.

They're at a stoplight, so Iwaizumi waits until it turns green, and he has an excuse to keep his attention on the road before biting the bullet.

"It's Kageyama."

Oikawa is quiet, then laughing, incredulous. " _What?_ "

"We've been getting together during the off seasons."

Silence. Then, "How long?!"

"Four years."

"Since – _college?!_ " Oikawa sputters.

"Yes," Iwaizumi says, keeping his face neutral. 

"Iwa-chan!"

"What?"

"Kageyama?? _Tobio-chan_? Since _college_?"

"Yes," Iwaizumi says.

Another stop light and Iwaizumi finally allows himself to look over at Oikawa's face. It's the same wide eyed, head tilted, utterly baffled confusion. 

"Wh – what?" Oikawa finally asks. "I – what?"

"Do you have a problem with this?" Iwaizumi asks.

That gets Oikawa trying to compose himself, looking forward out the front window, running a hand through his hair. "I – " he says. "… No?"

"Okay." A thorn of anxiety eases out of Iwaizumi's heart, and his hands relax a bit on the steering wheel. Oikawa is confused, but it's understandable. There's no judgment or hate. He needs to process this, and Iwaizumi can practically see the smoke coming out of Oikawa's ears as he stares out the window, hand covering his mouth, trying in frantic silence to do just that. 

"Tobio-chan plays volleyball," he says, nodding to himself when they pull into the airport parking ramp. "And you know each other, so if you found out he's gay, too, it only makes sense – "

"Actually," Iwaizumi says. He never expected to admit this. "I was interested before I found out."

That throws Oikawa for another loop. " _Why??_ " 

Kageyama's shocking blue eyes, the way he can weather disappointment and pain with stoic acceptance, but is so easily overwhelmed by happiness and pleasure. His cautious, deliberate movements when he's assisting Iwaizumi with a task, his quiet, sincere thank yous, his strength, and his crippling vulnerability in the face of his fears, the blush that spreads angrily across his cheeks, his pink tongue, the swell of his rear – 

"That's not a conversation you want to have."

Oikawa shakes his head, making an aborted sound of distress like he wants to argue, before realizing he probably shouldn't.

"Do you want to wait in the car?" Iwaizumi asks.

"I mean," Oikawa says, sighing in heavy defeat, then opens the car door. " _No_." 

Kageyama spots Iwaizumi first, and his smile is so real and sweet that it makes Iwaizumi regret bringing Oikawa inside, because as soon as Kageyama spots him it dims, expression tight with nerves by the time they meet up.

"Tobio," Oikawa says, stepping forward before Iwaizumi can, holding out his hand.

Kageyama blinks down at it, then up at Oikawa's face. "Oikawa-san," he says, taking it, slowly.

"Is this it?" Oikawa asks, toeing the luggage at Kageyama's side.

"There's two more – "

Oikawa goes heads off to baggage claim, and picks up the luggage when Kageyama points it out, carries it to the car, and sits in the backseat on the way home, allowing Kageyama golden shotgun. It's overboard, and if it was anyone else Iwaizumi would find it insincere and annoying, but this is Oikawa, and Oikawa is trying to make a point. It leaves Kageyama downright rattled, though, continually looking to Iwaizumi for reassurance. 

Iwaizumi is used to his time with Kageyama being generally quiet, but this is something Oikawa cannot stand. He chatters away in the back, mild, non-offensive things, perfectly cordial when he wants to be. 

"How is your family?"

"Ah. My mom is good."

"No siblings?"

"My sister is good," Kageyama says, then visibly braces himself to bounce the conversation ball back. "How is – your family?"

"Mm, only good things," Oikawa says. "I got married last year."

Kageyama starts in surprise, looking at Iwaizumi for confirmation. 

"It was a private ceremony," Iwaizumi says.

"Oh, yeah. No press release," Oikawa says, then can't resist bragging – "We had a baby this spring."

"What!" This startles Kageyama so much he actually turns around in his seat.

"They're both at my apartment," Iwaizumi says, and Oikawa is quick to pull up pictures on his phone to show off, and Kageyama stares at the screen as though Oikawa is showing him proof of alien life – vaguely horrified, but fascinated. Iwaizumi drives, surprised at the happiness in his chest at the sight, these two worlds, his most important worlds, blending together. 

"Welcome baaa – holy shit."

"Oh my _god_."

Hanamaki's hands have flown to the back of his head, shocked, and Matsukawa hits his chest, choking on whatever was in this mouth, his girlfriend patting his back in concern. 

Oikawa's wife looks alarmed, until Iwaizumi introduces them. 

"Ah," she says, nodding when she hears the name _Kageyama Tobio_ , shooting a look toward Oikawa, who only shrugs with a wan, defeated smile. _What can you do?_

Understandably, this welcome has Kageyama on edge, and he sticks close to Iwaizumi's side at first, only drifting away to take a few pieces from the snack tray before hurrying back. He lets his fingers slide through Kageyama's belt loop, and maybe it's selfish, but Iwaizumi finds some pleasure in this, in his arm at Kageyama's waist. The subtle chance to show Kageyama off, something he's never been able to do in front of others before.

"I'm glad you came," he says, quietly, and Kageyama's face goes a bit red. He's obviously still uncomfortable, but he nods - he's happy it made Iwaizumi happy.

It's about half hour into the party, and the surprise has properly settled, when Hanamaki suddenly calls across the room.

"Oi. Kageyama-kun." 

Kageyama looks over, expression tense. 

"I heard the Arrows are looking to trade their whole left side," he says. 

"Eh?" This is startling enough to knock Kageyama's nerves away - going immediately to confused irritation. "Why? No."

"Yeah," Matsukawa says. "I heard with how close Yamato and Aska are they're not gonna try to replace Aska after Yamato's injury."

"Aska-san pairs better with Fukushi-san," Kageyama says, and both Hanamaki and Matsukawa scoff. "He _does_."

"Well not during games," Matsukawa says. 

The conversation about Kageyama's teammates goes on, and Iwaizumi relaxes enough to stop hovering. Kageyama is holding his own, and he can tell by the smiles in their eyes that his friends are enjoying his flustered, insistent reactions. The conversations pick up from there as drinks get passed around a little more generously and they start to relax. 

By the time Oikawa's wife puts her baby in Kageyama's arms, Iwaizumi feels like it's safe enough to leave for a short trip to the convenience store for more ice and cups. He can trust his friends, he's certain.

Until he returns, toeing off his shoes, hunting out Kageyama – or trying – glancing from corner to corner, finally spotting him out on the deck, with. Oikawa. Alone. A dark expression on his face.

An unpleasant jab of panic, Iwaizumi sets the bag of ice and cups on the floor, about to barge out there, when Oikawa's wife puts a hand on his shoulder.

Iwaizumi looks at her, baffled. She has to know their history – 

"You had a talk with me," she reminds him, raising an eyebrow. "When Tooru and I got serious."

It's true. Iwaizumi did have a talk with her, about how he'd never seen Oikawa get this serious about anyone, and how he hoped she was appreciating that – but. That was different, because it was Oikawa. But as soon as he thinks it, Iwaizumi knows it's hypocritical. He looks back to the deck, at their expressions. Oikawa's mouth is moving, and every so often Kageyama nods, shortly. His expression isn't really pained, or anxious, just – very serious. 

Reluctantly, Iwaizumi leaves them to it, carrying the ice to his freezer.

When he comes back out, the door to the deck is open, and Oikawa has rejoined the party, while Kageyama stays leaning against the railing, checking his phone.

"Your friends?" Iwaizumi asks after joining him out there. 

Kageyama nods. "They're wondering why I was tagged in pictures with Oikawa-san's baby."

"Oh," Iwaizumi says, then glares into the apartment, where there's almost no way Oikawa knows what he's annoyed about, but he gives a cheeky peace sign anyway. "He'll take it down."

"It's alright," Kageyama says, pocketing his phone.

"Really?"

"I'll just tell them," Kageyama's shoulders are hitched up slightly, looking off to the side. "I was at my boyfriend's."

Iwaizumi smiles, and pushes a kiss into Kageyama's temple. Sounds good to him.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr! [Tiggeryumyumm](http://tiggeryumyumm.tumblr.com/)


End file.
